Today’s blog starts with a correction, as yesterday’s completely missed one of the best and funniest moments of the trip so far. I blame the fact that I was still in disbelief that it had happened at all, but Karen assures me that it most definitely did.
When we boarded the coach with Suy for our tour around Sihanoukville, he introduced himself and told us how proud he was to be our guide for the next few hours. Then he said, quite casually, “I would like to sing you a song that I have made up for you.”
This was very much our Buddy the Elf moment — the one where Buddy’s dad thinks he’s a “singagram” and Buddy promptly makes up a song on the spot. Bear in mind we were sitting right at the front of the coach, directly in Suy’s eyeline, when he — a charming man in his early 40s who quite clearly cannot sing — started freestyling in almost exactly the same tune and style as Buddy.
Lines included: “My name is Suy, but I choose the nickname David. You are from the Holland America ship, it’s a Saturday, and I will LOVE LOVE LOVE showing you my country.”
This went on for about two full minutes.
The rest of the coach gave a loud, ironic, yet oddly sympathetic cheer, which only encouraged him to make up another song on the spot. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I sat frozen, stifling any visible reaction until he finally stopped and went off to sort something else out. Karen immediately understood my reference when I started calling him Buddy.
As we pulled back into port after the tour, he freestyled a goodbye song to us all. I’m still not entirely sure whether it was sweet… or just plain creepy and weird.
How I forgot to mention this yesterday, I blame squarely on the ship’s captain, who threw me completely off course for a while — but I’ll come to that shortly.
Today was another At Sea day, which I foolishly thought meant no alarm. Wrong. Karen had arranged for us to meet our new friends Lois and Chris for breakfast at 8am in the dining room, using her newly discovered chat facility on the Navigator app.
It was all rather pleasant, helped by being shown to a prime window table at the back of the ship. Karen and I both had Eggs Benedict, and it was rather nice having it served rather than assembled from buffet components. Lois and Chris were excellent company, and Lois encouraged Karen to start drinking at 8am by making their own mimosas.
After about an hour we went our separate ways. We headed up to the Crow’s Nest for some proper hot drinks, stopping by the spa so Karen could book herself in for a pedicure later in the day using a $60 voucher that had been left in our postbox. The voucher was actually in my name — presumably they’d assessed me as the greater cause for concern — but they generously allowed Karen to use it.
I finally found time to start reading The Curious Charms of Arthur Pepper, which I’d borrowed from the ship’s library. It gripped me from the start, and I finished it the same day. It’s a terrifically touching story and one I’m convinced will be turned into a good British film at some point.
We relocated to the Lido pool area and ordered smoothies to cool down while I started writing up the Cambodia blog. Mid-sentence, the captain announced over the tannoy that due to Vietnamese authorities giving away our dock to a commercial ship, we would no longer be docking at Phu My but instead heading to Cam Ranh, further north.
This meant all excursions booked for the next two days were cancelled — including our planned day trip to Ho Chi Minh City, now a six-hour drive from the new port. There was a collective loud groan from everyone around us. Karen immediately started moaning, which I gently suggested was pointless. The captain explained they were frantically putting together a new schedule of excursions and that we could learn more at a talk at 1pm.
I abandoned my blog writing (and obviously forgot the singing guide story) and instead researched our rights — a change of port is though covered by the cruise T&Cs — why we weren’t being allowed to dock (apparently common here, as commercial ships bring in more money), and exactly where Cam Ranh is on the Vietnamese coast.
At the meeting, the Excursion Manager made the first ten minutes entirely about herself, the extra work her team were doing, and how none of this was her fault. Eventually she listed our options, and actually we found alternatives we were happy with — both complimentary — saving us $450 we’d spent on the cancelled excursions. It’s a shame we won’t get to “Saigon”, but worse things happen at sea.
Lunch followed at the usual Lido buffet, eaten outside and washed down with a couple of cocktails while I alternated between finishing the blog and finishing my book.
At 5pm Karen went off for her hour-long foot treatment. I’m not entirely sure what it involved beyond “shellac” and a massage, but I did remember to say how lovely her feet looked afterwards. I waited for her in the Crow’s Nest with a glass of bubbles.
Back in the cabin we had FaceTime call with Barry, which was good before getting ourselves ready for one of our speciality dinners in the Canaletto restaurant. Karen looked especially pretty in her jumpsuit. The service was excellent and the food plentiful and high quality. I had the slow-cooked beef rib in Chianti, which was superb. Karen had some sort of chicken and couldn’t finish it all. We accompanied this with a couple of Bellinis each.
Collecting a glass of Cabernet en route, we headed to the World Stage for the scheduled show — only to find it cancelled as one of the cast was ill. Instead, the remaining singers put on an improvised cabaret show, which was… fine. I knew I was tired when I nodded off during a screechy version of Somebody to Love. When it ended at 9.45pm, Karen took pity on me and allowed an early night, bypassing the music lounges.
We may have been on this ship a week, but we are still managing to head in the wrong direction at least once a day, and there’s a 50/50 chance we choose the wrong side of the ship for our cabin. We get it wrong far more often than seems statistically reasonable.
I was almost asleep by the time we got through the door. Tonight’s towel animal made us laugh — we couldn’t decide what it was — but we were very happy with tonight’s Lindt chocolate.
It had been another busy day of nothingness. I’m never quite sure where the time goes on sea days, but it slips past as quietly and steadily as the water beneath the ship.
